


Alone But Not Lonely

by Anonymous



Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crossdressing, Emotions, First Meetings, M/M, Porn With Plot, Rentboys, Smut, Spot Is The Rentboy BTW, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 04:41:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17318273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Race thinks he wants an evening to himself but life knows better than that





	Alone But Not Lonely

It was a Friday night and Race was, as usual, alone. 

He didn’t mind all that much. He was able to get chores done, take his time, really enjoy the evening. As he sat down on the couch, he took a sip from his beer and paid little mind to the TV in front of him. He glanced out the glass doors that led to out his balcony, a sigh escaping him. 

How pathetic that he didn’t even have the need to call his friends, to have some social interaction besides his white collar working job. Even that was a drag, but the need for money outweighed his true desires. Being an adult was supposed to be great, but all Race wished for was to be back in his younger years, bright-eyed and bushy tailed for the world that awaited him. 

Grimacing, Race took another swig of his beer and tipped his head back. All he had to do was walk out of the apartment, knock on some doors for some company. He was in charge of his own life after all. 

Then, there was a rather heavy knock colliding with his thoughts and Race furrowed his brows. He wasn’t expecting any visitors, slowly getting up as he eyed the door with suspicion. Looking through the peephole didn’t help much, the figure outside unrecognizable. Keeping the chain on the door, Race cracked it open, staring the stranger up and down. 

“Racetrack Higgins?” The stranger asked. 

He was dressed in ragged clothing, mostly black from head to toe and a backpack hung from his shoulders. His face was stern, though not entirely unwelcoming as he and Race studied each other. Race couldn’t keep eye contact for long, a shiver going down his spine when the guy tilted his head. 

“Who’s asking?” Race mustered all the courage he could, grip tight on the doorknob. 

“Me,” the guy replied. “I’m Spot. Your rental for the night.”

Race blinked, his mind slow to register the words. “Rental?” he squeaked out a blush spreading across his face. 

This had to be some cruel trick, another prank made by one of his friends and Race was tempted to shut the door then and there. 

The guy, Spot, caught on to Race’s confusion and he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. “This is 856 Ivy Circle right?”

Race didn’t stop his nod, then staring at the ground in attempt to process the situation. 

“Typical,” Spot sighed. “This is why I ask for payment up front. Well, if you don’t want me, I’ll head out then.”

“Wait, who paid you?” Race jumped in for answers. 

Spot shrugged, adjusting the backpack on his shoulders. “A bunch of dudes. I couldn’t keep track of them, they were talking all at once on the phone.”

Race easily imagined who was arguing with who and he sighed. “Listen, I don’t know if I’m really in the mood for…” Race didn’t want to say the word. “But you can come in for a drink if you want. Since you came all this way.”

Unlatching the door, Race was in disbelief of his own actions as he let Spot in. For all he knew, Spot could’ve been someone terrible and here he was inviting him in like a good friend. Yet, when Spot brushed past him, Race felt at ease, a weight lifting off his shoulders. 

“Uh, beer? Wine? I don’t really have any fun drinks,” Race watched as Spot made himself at home on the couch. 

“Beer’s fine,” Spot answered, his focus turning to the TV.

With a nod, Race grabbed another can and brought it over as he settled back in his place next to Spot. They sat in silence for a while, barely digesting whatever show Race had been watching until Spot broke the silence first. 

“What’s a guy like you doing all alone on a Friday night?”

Race turned to Spot before shaking his head, unsure how to answer. “What do you mean by that?”

Spot shrugged, taking a sip of his beer before beginning. “I mean, you’ve got friends that seem pretty invested in your wellbeing, even if they did call me up...you’re cute, your apartment’s nice, it just seems like you’ve got things going for you.”

Race scoffed at the last statement before he blurted out, “Cute?” and took to nursing his beer as Spot looked at him. 

“Yeah. I usually don’t get too lucky with clients so you’re a breath of fresh air.”

Race couldn’t begin to imagine what Spot had been through and he found himself guilty for ever feeling sorry for himself. Race had everything while Spot was just trying to survive the day, no matter the cost. 

“I don’t hate it all the time,” Spot spoke up again, interrupting Race’s thoughts. “I mean some things are weird, I’ve had a few close calls, but I’ve got my regulars and they’ve been good to me.”

“Why not take care of you completely then?” Race couldn’t help interject and he internally reprimanded himself. 

“Yeah, wouldn’t that be something,” Spot sighed. “Most of them are married or in the closet so…”

Race nodded, though he wasn’t sure if he could even start to relate to Spot. Here they were, two strangers at opposite ends, sharing a night of beer and bad television. It seemed the beer was the only thing they had in common at this point. 

“Well, I hope,” Race cleared his throat. “I hope you get to do something you really want someday.” He winced a little at his words, but with Spot staring at him, he hoped he had said something right.

“Thank you. Me too.”

The silence drifted in again and Race was itching to have some kind of conversation. 

“So, what’s in the backpack?” Race asked before apologizing profusely for asking such a personal question. 

“Not personal at all,” Spot reassured. “Just my supplies.”

Race swallowed, his heart thrumming in his chest. He wanted to know more, but these things always made his nervous. “Like?” He managed to say, the beer can beginning to crush in his hand. 

Spot raised an eyebrow, but his eyes shined with amusement and he laughed a little. “I’ve got toys, outfits, other little things to spice up the night. I can usually tell what a client likes after talking for a bit. It’s why I’m sometimes highly requested. You know.”

Race wasn’t sure he did and he set down his beer can, breathing in deeply. “What do I like then?”

The room was stifling and Race was tempted to run out to the balcony but he remained where he was as Spot stared him down. To be honest, his curiosity was getting the best of him, his eyes watching as Spot stood up and he grabbed his backpack. 

“Why don’t I show you?” Spot winked and headed down the hallway as if he knew where Race’s bathroom was. 

Luckily, Race’s apartment was straightforward and it wasn’t until Spot closed the bathroom door that Race stopped holding his breath. Inside, he was screaming. He had never been like this, anxious and excited all at once as he wiped his palms on his jeans. In attempt to calm himself down, Race stared at the ceiling, only for his head to whip back down when he heard a click. 

Spot came into view and Race’s eyes went wide at the sight before him. With a tight fitting top and spaghetti straps barely clinging to his shoulders, Spot took his time adjust the choker to his neck. Once he finished, he pulled at the hem of his skirt, his balance swaying a little with the stilletos on his feet as the backpack was tossed to the side.

Everything shot downwards for Race and his mouth hung open as Spot walked towards him as if a sultry beat was playing in the background. 

“Like what you see?” Spot purred, his hands falling on either side of Race as he pressed into the couch. 

Race was unable to do anything beyond staring, but when Spot’s expression started to change to one of concern, Race grabbed onto his hips, pulling Spot onto his lap. With a proud grin, Spot adjusted himself easily, hands beginning to tangle in Race’s hair. 

“I, uh, sorry if I suck,” Race stumbled over his words, his fingers playing with the bottom of Spot’s top. 

“I’m sure you won’t, but I wouldn’t mind it literally,” Spot reassured before placing a gentle kiss on Race’s jaw. 

Race let out a small noise of content, heavy breaths leaving him as Spot nipped and sucked at his neck. His mind, his sense was leaving him and his hands trailed up underneath Spot’s top, exploring every inch of skin he could touch. When his hand brushed along Spot’s chest, Spot shivered and Race took the opportunity to push up the top, holding Spot back as he licked and kissed the newly exposed skin. 

Spot moaned with Race’s ministrations, his hips rocking against Race’s and Race let his free hand massage Spot’s thigh before reaching underneath the skirt. Spot was wearing a thong underneath and Race’s mind went wild. Coaxing Spot off of him, he guided Spot to brace himself against the couch, top still pushed up as Race lifted the skirt, admiring the sight before him. He gave Spot’s ass a squeeze, then grabbing hold of the thong and pulling it down Spot’s legs. Helping Race get it off the rest of the way, Spot shivered at the new exposure and Race leaned down, giving Spot’s hole a lick. 

“Oh, fuck,” Spot breathed, his head falling forward and it was then Race went a step further, spreading Spot’s hole open and shoving his tongue in with rapid licks. 

All of Spot’s noises were music to Race’s ears and a part of him just wanted to see Spot cum. But his own desires were building inside of him, Spot sensing this as well. 

“First pocket of my bag,” Spot nodded towards it.

Reluctantly pulling away, Race found all the necessary supplies where Spot had said and he stripped himself as he made his way back to Spot. 

“So hot,” Spot grinned and Race couldn’t help smile back. 

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

Spot blushed at this, hiding it as he positioned himself on the couch, still facing the wall, but with his knees now braced on the cushions. Lubing up his fingers, Race settled in between Spot’s legs, his fingers stretching Spot as his other hand reached for Spot’s hands that had found their place on the wall. Race moved them closer together in attempt to pin Spot’s wrists and he nibbled at Spot’s earlobe as he fingered him. 

“I’m not going to last long if you keep doing this,” Spot teased, his words breathless, head tilting back. 

Not needing any more encouragement, Race lined up his cock with Spot’s hole and pushed in, gauging Spot’s reactions as he went. Spot was swearing, incoherent words spilling out of his mouth until Race was fully seated in him. The two took a moment to breath and Race released his grip on Spot’s wrists to take his top off of him. Now with the skirt as the main attraction, Race reached under it, grabbing hold of Spot’s cock as he began moving. 

Between Spot’s moans and the sensations sweeping through him, Race was in ecstasy. His hips sped up, Spot moving with him as they fucked into the couch. It seemed both were determined to make the other cum first, touching what skin they could before Spot let out a cry of pleasure, his release spilling over Race’s fingers. With a few more thrusts, Race followed after, his face burying into the crook of Spot’s neck. 

Their labored breathing filled the room and Race finally found the strength to pull away. Spot was quick to wipe off Race’s hand with the discarded top, his eyes hooded as Race ran a hand down his face. 

“Want to take a shower?” Race asked, a new sense of relief washing over him. 

Spot smiled, an unusual shyness as he got to his feet. Taking Race by the hand, he led the way to the bathroom and stripped down as Race prepared the shower. Race wasn’t sure what was to happen next as he stepped under the warm spray but then he felt two arms wrap around his waist from behind and he looked over his shoulder to grin at Spot. 

“You enjoy yourself then?” Spot kissed Race’s shoulder and Race turned in Spot’s arms, returning the embrace. 

“Yeah. Hope you did too.” Race hoped his sincerity was laced in every word as he and Spot stared at each other. 

There was a tug, a need to do something that Race had never been as brash to do before. Spot hadn’t said anything about not doing it and Race took a chance, pressing forward. 

He and Spot met in a tender kiss, their bodies melding together like a past memory. Race was almost inclined to believe he and Spot had loved each other in another life and when the kiss ended, he only hoped Spot felt the same. 

“You know,” Spot cleared his throat. “When I’m not being a rent boy, I work at that bookstore on Sixth and Courtyard. Do you...want to stop by sometime?”

By the way Spot laughed, Race was sure his expression had turned into something comical and he brought Spot into another kiss. 

If they weren’t meant to be, Race was at least sure he had a newfound friend in Spot. Doors suddenly opened, a new uncharted course lay ahead, and Race knew Spot had been right all along. 

Life was absolutely perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Hot Damn This Was A Mind Worm


End file.
